


Memory's Heritage

by Grey (grey853)



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 02:30:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/793012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey853/pseuds/Grey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blair tells Jim about a sad incident from his past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memory's Heritage

## Memory's Heritage

by Grey

Author's webpage: <http://grey.ravenshadow.net/>

* * *

Memory's Heritage  
by Grey 

Tiny muscle spasms rippled through his shoulders as Blair Sandburg leaned back from the screen, rubbing the bridge of his nose under his glasses. Eyes crossed from the strain of reading through over 20 academic articles in less than four hours on top of a full 12 hour day with Jim. Scooting back, he leaned forward trying to let the blood find a wider path up to his oxygen-starved brain. On top of everything else, a cold tickled at the back of his throat and made his ears itch. God, he felt like shit. 

"Hey, Chief, you about to pass out over there or what?" 

"No, I'm not going to pass out, thank you. I'm just trying to remember why it is I agreed to take David's class for him tomorrow. I am like totally wiped." Blair brought his head up and gripped the table as a swirl of dizziness wobbled his vision. "Whoa." 

"What?" Jim stood and walked over to the table, staring down with concern at his young haggard friend. "You okay, Chief?" 

"Yeah, man, I'm just a little out of it here. Sat up too fast, I guess." Blair glanced up to catch the glassy look as Jim catalogued his vitals. "Would you please stop that." 

Startled back to attention, Jim frowned. "Chief, you need to go to bed. Your lungs are starting to get congested and your heart's working over time to catch up. Besides, you've been working since about four this morning." 

"Sorry if I woke you, man." 

"It's no problem for me. I just went back to sleep, but you, Chief, are running on fumes here. Now, what's this about taking somebody else's classes? Don't you have enough to keep you busy without asking for more?" 

A flare of irritation flashed, but Blair fought to keep the tightness out of his tone. "David's mom is ill, Jim. He needed some extra time. David's the one who usually bails my ass out when I can't make my own classes because I'm working with you." 

"Oh." Jim actually blushed a little and Blair grinned. 

"Man, I love it when your ears turn pink like that, Jim. Too bad it's not anywhere near Easter. You could pass for the bunny, no problem." 

"Funny, Sandburg. All right, so you owe this David guy. I understand that." Jim sat down at the table across from Blair's computer. He put his hands together in the serious discussion position. "Even so, you're looking a little ragged, Chief. I wouldn't say anything, but it's starting to affect your health. I can hear you wheezing from here." 

"It's just a cold. All this Cascade spring time, I guess." 

"It's more than that and you know it. You're still running around keeping busy so you don't have to think about Roy." 

A surge of ice washed his skin. He really didn't want to get into any heavy discussions on grieving with Jim, no way. "Look, man, that's not even close. I'm just behind. Don't try to make this something it's not." Clicking the closed button on his computer, he stood up. "If it'll make you happy, I'll go ahead and turn in and be done with it for the night." 

"Happy? Sure, but I'd be even more delirious if you'd sit for a minute longer and just tell me what's going on with you besides the obvious stay busier than god routine you've been pulling lately." 

"Come on, Jim, just lay off, okay? There's no deal here except I'm too tired to think. We've both had a lot going on the last few weeks and now is not the time to discuss any of it. Maybe later after we've both had a chance to get some sleep. I don't know about you, but I think my eyeballs are about to bleed." 

"Ouch. Not good, Chief. Now that you mention it, your eyes are really bloodshot. Maybe you need new glasses or something." 

Taking a deep breath so he wouldn't scream, Blair steadied himself on the edge of the table, both hands gripping the edge. "Jesus, Jim, who knew you could be such a mother hen." Inhaling one more time, he drew the words carefully and neatly in a straight line. "I know you mean well. I really do, but I have to tell you that this constant surveillance of my health and trying to tell me what to do is starting to really piss me off." The last words slipped out with a lot more force than he intended. 

Jim's face stayed fairly neutral except for the tell-tale twitching of his left jaw, which at that moment had a life of its very own. "Okay, Chief. I can back off. But you're right about one thing. I only say this shit because I do care. You're my partner. When you neglect yourself, for whatever reason, you have to understand that concerns me. I want to know why and so I can figure out what to do about it." 

"Shit, Jim, you sound like you think I'm some kind of headcase or something. Neglecting myself? Where the hell do you come up with this stuff?" Blair turned and walked into the living room and paced in front of the window, his hand running anxiously through his hair. He hated when Jim saw him like this, but he couldn't stop. Every nerve in his body wanted to fire at the same time, every instinct screamed to run, but he couldn't do that. Jim ran faster than he ever could. Damn sentinel anyway. 

Jim tracked him with a steady gaze and let the heart beat settle before he spoke again. "Blair, look, I don't know what's going on, but I'm your friend here. If you need to talk I'll listen. If you need space, I can do that, too. It's just that you're usually the one doing all the talking. The fact that you're all shut down about whatever this is kind of worries me. You're the guide, not me. I'm the one who usually gets to hear this share it with your good buddy speech." 

Shaking his head in apology, Blair finally stopped pacing and sagged down on the couch, his head falling forward. "I know, man. I'm sorry. I just can't talk about this tonight. Giving me that space you mentioned?" 

"Yeah?" 

"That sounds like a good plan for now." Blair turned his head to see Jim nodding before he stood. 

"You've got it, Chief. But there's a catch." 

"Of course there is, Jim. So, what else is new?" 

"Soon we have to talk, and I mean really talk. None of that footwork you usually do when you don't want to face a problem. Deal?" 

"Man, ....." 

"Deal or not, Sandburg? Yes or no? You know I could be in your face all night." 

Oh, man, what an image. Gulping quietly to himself, Blair agreed, the words tripping over his awkward tongue. "Yeah, okay, man, deal." 

"Good. Guess I'll see you in the morning then." 

"Sure, Jim. In the morning." Blair slumped back against the couch as Jim took his tightly packed jeans up the stairs to his bedroom. His hips and thighs swayed with the grace of a warrior's on the way to battle. Groaning to himself, the young guide tried desperately to figure out how to tell Jim that being his partner created most of the problem. He wanted more than friendship and, because of his need for love, he feared losing his friend all the more. 

* * *

Blair rolled over and sneezed into his pillow. "Oh, man. Nasty." Sitting up slowly, he reached for another tissue and wiped his already raw nose. 

"Morning, Chief." Jim stood in the doorway stirring a bowl of batter. "Feeling okay in here?" 

"I'm fine, man." Blowing his nose again, brought on a round of coughing. 

"Right." Jim tilted his head with a concerned frown. "Your class starts in an hour. I thought I'd make us some pancakes while you shower and get dressed." 

"Really? Cool." Baffled by Jim's sudden attentiveness, but not wanting to jinx it, Blair hopped up to run to the bathroom. As soon as he stood up, he wobbled enough for Jim to notice. 

"Blair, maybe you should just take a day off? Give yourself a chance to get rested." 

Steadying himself with the bedside table, Blair shook his stuffed up head. "No, I'm fine. Really. It's just a cold. No big deal." 

"If you say so. Listen, at least you're free this afternoon, right? There's nothing at the station. You could get some rest then. I thought we could go out to eat tonight. There's this new Italian place over on Eastwood Rafe told me about." 

"Yeah, man, that'd be great. I could do Italian, no problem." Smiling at the right answer, Jim went back to the kitchen, leaving Blair to go shower. 

Since plenty of hot water soaked his aching muscles, Blair figured his partner must have gotten up some time ago. The steam helped him breathe more easily and made his mind focus almost to its usual shining charity. Despite that brightness that came with morning renewal, something nagged at the back of his mind. The dream swam up and opened in front of him as he stepped back with the power of the memory of his Uncle Josh. He'd seen the old man in his vision, heard him tell a story, give a warning. Now in the daylight, his memory failed him. None of his words survived the trauma of waking. 

A shiver ran through his whole body as he turned off the water and found a towel. Drying off only chilled him more, his arms and legs shaking with the attempt to either remember or forget. Rushing through shaving and combing back his damp hair, he troubled himself even more about why he'd dreamed of a man he hadn't seen in over 15 years. A few minutes later he hurried to his room to dress and rush to breakfast, the whole time images of the mentor from his child waved for his full attention. 

Still trying to figure out the source for his uneasiness, he missed Jim's question as he sat at the table putting on his shoes. A plate appeared before him as he heard, "Chief?" 

"Oh, man, I'm sorry. My brain's on vacation this morning. What'd you say?" 

"I just asked if you're okay. You're pale as a ghost all of a sudden." 

"Yeah, I'm fine." He sat up and drank some coffee before putting half a bottle of honey on his pancakes. Algae shakes couldn't complete with Jim's buckwheats that was for sure. Even with a cold the rich sweet flavor worked with the caffeine to bring his thinking back on line. 

Jim ate in silence for awhile longer before finally asking, "Okay, Chief, if you're fine, why is it I get the feeling I'm eating alone here?" 

"Sorry, man." 

"Don't apologize so much. Just tell me what's going on." 

"Well, it's weird. For the last week I've had these dreams I can't really remember, but they're about my Uncle Josh." 

"Uncle Josh? I don't think you've ever mentioned him." Jim finished off the last of his meal and settled back with his hot brew. "So, was he one of Naomi's friends or a real uncle?" 

Haunted by bouts of ridicule of his mother's life style for most of his youth, Blair's head jerked up as a reflex. The absence of spite in his friends eyes relieved him of one more defensive dance. 

"No, he was the great uncle of a guy named Brown my mom and I stayed with in Atlanta when I was 13." 

"Brown? Any kin to Henri?" 

"Could be if he has connections to Atlanta. Anyway, Uncle Josh was this great old guy. He had to be about 80, but he told these wonderful stories about his family. I hadn't thought about him in ages, and this morning he just sort of popped in my head." Serious again, he ate the last bit of pancake, working hard not to leave even one speck of honey on his sticky plate. 

"So, why are you frowning so hard if you liked the guy?" 

"I don't know. I couldn't hear him." 

"What? Hear him when?" 

Putting down his fork, Blair wiped his mouth and tried to put into words why thinking about a man who'd helped him through a difficult time made him so nervous. "When I dream, I see things, sure, but mainly I listen to the voices of the people in my dreams. In these Uncle Josh tries to talk to me. He always moves his hands a lot and I can see him doing that in my dreams. But I can't hear what he keeps trying to tell me. I just get this feeling he's trying to warn me about something. I just can't hear it." 

"So, what do you suppose it means?" 

"Beats me. Anyway, I'll think about it later. I've got David's class in less than 20 minutes and I'm going to be late. 

"Sandburg late. That's something new." Jim quirked a smile over his mug as he tried to keep a straight face. 

"Funny, man. Not everybody has an exact internal time clock like you do." 

"Chief, you never pay attention to a clock, internal or otherwise." 

"Yeah, well in some societies the concept of time doesn't even exist in a conventional sense. They don't even have a word for it." 

"Well, when you move to one of those places, let me know. Meanwhile, you've got a schedule to keep." 

"Tell me about it." 

Snorting to himself, Blair ran to the bathroom to brush his teeth and then snatched up his book bag. "When are we going out to dinner?" 

"I thought you said time had no meaning?" 

Exasperated by Jim's playful mood, Blair whined, "Man, you can be such a pain sometimes." 

"But it's a good pain though right, Chief. Consider that it's my treat tonight if you answer correctly." 

Stopped in his tracks, Blair turned and studied Jim as he washed up the last of the breakfast dishes. "Your treat? How come? It's not my birthday or anything." 

"Well, I never did buy you a proper dinner like I promised, so I thought it was about time." 

"Oh. Okay." Still confused, Blair picked up his keys from the basket. "So, what time?" 

"I should be home around 5:30, so I made reservations for 7." 

"Reservations? Gee, Jim, do we have to dress up or anything? How fancy is this new place?" 

"Sandburg, you have to wear decent clothes, so don't get your hopes up about wearing the grunge you normally wear out. In the meantime, just go to work and we'll talk later." Jim dried off his hands, a twist of a smile curling his lips. 

"Jim, why do I get the feeling you're up to something here?" 

"Maybe because you've been hanging with cops too long?" 

"Seriously, man, is there something else going on?" 

Blair watched closely as Jim's eyes shifted for just the briefest of moments before he spoke. "I just want to take you to dinner, Chief. A little wine, a little pasta, a nice night out. I swear, you're going to have to stay away from the station if you're going to do the third degree every time we do something different." He tried, but the slight irritation behind the words slipped out. 

"I'm sorry. I just thought it was strange that's all. Actually it sounds kind of nice, something to look forward to. Thanks." 

"Don't thank me yet, Chief. We still have to talk. Remember?" 

Ah, the catch. 

"Sure, Jim. I didn't forget. Later." Shutting the door behind him, Blair stood by the elevator wondering what else Jim might have in mind for the night. His own thoughts drifted to the stairs up to Jim's bed and the rounded butt and strong thighs that drew his eye so often. The broad shoulders that strained against the plaid flannel patterns that Jim liked to wear played over in his mind. Just as the elevator dinged, he thought about how much he really liked his partner in a greyish blue that matched his wonderfully intense eyes. His awakened cock ached against the cage of blue denim. 

"Damn." He clutched the strap on his backpack harder to restrain his hands from doing something too natural in public. Talking to himself, he forgot about sentinel ears as he muttered, "Man, I have got to figure this thing out before it kills me." 

* * *

"Mr. Sandburg?" Annie Jackson poked her head around his doorway as she spoke. 

"Yeah? What's up?" Blair took of his glasses to see the freshman student aide more clearly. 

"I got this message from some guy who said he really wanted you to call him. He said it was important, that he'd been trying track you down for weeks." 

"Really? What's his name?" Blair stood up and came over to meet her halfway in his office as she handed him the pink message slip. 

"He said his name was Rufus Brown from Atlanta. That's a neat name, huh. Do you know him?" 

Stepping backwards, Blair hit the back of his leg on a nearby chair and stumbled. He let himself settle in a chair before he fell on his ass completely. "Damn." 

"What? Is this a bad thing hearing from this guy?" 

Staring at the sheet, numbness took over where the chill left off. "Yeah, well, probably. Did he happen to mention what he wanted?" 

"Yeah, he said something about an uncle of his, but nothing else. I'm sorry. Maybe I should've asked, huh?" 

"No, that's fine. I'll call him." 

"Okay, well, I hope it's not anything like real bad. Later, Mr. Sandburg." With a quick wave, the girl left Blair alone dreading one more head-on collision with his past. 

* * *

Blair sat in cross-legged on the floor trying to achieve some level of calm. Eyes closed, he meditated on visions of peace, clouds on a sunny day, gentle breezes, soft sounds of brooks in the woods. Nothing worked. He couldn't shake the eerie connection of Uncle Josh's death to the start of his dreams just a week ago. The click in the lock signaled Jim's arrival and the end of any possibility of tranquillity for the night. 

"Chief, where have you been. I've tried to reach you all afternoon." Jim put his leather jacket on the peg and took in the scene of the semi-circles of candles. The last time he'd seen it, Roy had just died. "What's going on?" 

"Nothing. I'm just trying to get my head straight. I'm sorry about turning off the cell phone." 

"It doesn't do you much good if you keep turning it off." 

"I'm sorry, Jim. I know you hate when I do that, but I just didn't want to talk. Don't be pissed, okay?" The slight tremble in the voice forced Blair to sit back and cover his face. God, how he hated being on the edge of crying in front of anybody, especially Jim. He chanted over and over in his head. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Just stop it. 

Jim sat down on the couch just behind his friend and put a light hand on his back. The touch pushed Blair over the edge as he took in a breath that once again brought a round of tears. "Jesus, Blair, what's wrong? Are you sick?" 

"I'm really sorry, man. I know this is so really stupid." 

"It's okay, Chief. What happened?" 

Swallowing hard and shaking his head as he wiped away the offending betrayal streaking down his cheek, he tried not to choke on the words. "I got a call telling me Uncle Josh died last week. They'd been trying to track me down because he'd asked for them to find me before he died." 

"Really? You were just talking about him this morning. How strange is that?" 

He continued to rub a warm comfort into Blair's tight shoulders. Leaning his head into the massage, Blair nodded. "I know. It's like some kind of psychic deal, but, man, if gives me the creeps a little, too, you know." 

"I imagine. So, when did you find out about this?" 

Strong fingers kneaded the top of each of Blair's arms and then went to the back of his neck. The deliciousness of it almost distracted him from his story, but worked hard to continue. 

"I got a message to call Rufus and he told me this afternoon after I finished up with David's class." 

"Who's Rufus?" 

"That's the guy Naomi was with when we stayed in Atlanta. He wanted to tell me that right before he died, Uncle Josh wanted to call me, but nobody knew where I was. Rufus said he'd wanted to tell me something important, but he died before he could tell anybody what that was." 

"He didn't tell anybody?" 

"Apparently not. Man, this really sucks big time, Jim." Still steady in his administration of needed stress management, the older man put a stronger level of commitment to the task. "God, that feels great." Blair leaned into the waves of relaxing energy that released the tight muscles, each push from Jim coordinated with his deep breaths. 

"Like that?" 

"Oh, man, yeah. Where'd you learn to do that?" 

"Around. Look, Blair, your cold's a whole lot better, but after all this you're tired. Let's forget about going out tonight and just stay home. I'll make the reservations for some other night when you're feeling more up to it. We'll just order out or something." 

A drowsy relief soothed him as he took in the consideration behind the words. "That sounds good, Jim. I don't think I'd be much company tonight anyway." 

"Oh, I don't know about that. You're pretty good company any night." 

The weight of grief just a bit lighter, Blair teased. "Really? That's not what you were saying last night." 

"Yeah, well, I like it better when you're not hurting so bad, but I still like to be there for you, you know." 

Blair pulled away and turned to gaze at his friend. "Jim, what's going on here?" 

"What? Nothing's going on, Chief. I just want you to know that you can talk to me the same as I talk to you." 

"But I already know that." Blair shifted and settled on the couch, his legs tucked up under him. He studied how his partner no longer made eye contact, but instead stared out the window. "Jim, look at me and tell me what's happening." 

Very quietly, Jim's words formed and filled the loft. "It bothers me that you're always here for me, but I can't seem to do the same for you." 

"But you do." 

"No, I don't. You shut me out. I guess it's that what goes around comes around thing. I shut you out for so long and then I finally realized I didn't want to do that anymore. Now, that I've gotten straightened out, you've closed the door between us." 

Shaking his head in denial, Blair leaned a little closer. "No, I haven't, Jim, but you have to understand that there are some bad feelings that you just can't fix." 

"I understand that. It's just that I should be able to help make it easier like you do when you helped with my Dad and Lila. I know I didn't make it a picnic to start, but you were still there punching away at the defenses. You made a difference." 

Blair sat back stunned. "Jesus, Jim. I don't think I've ever heard you say anything like that before." 

"But you should've been hearing this kind of thing all along, Chief. I don't know why it's so damn hard to tell you how I feel about you, but it is. I've come to depend on you for more than just this sentinel and guide thing. I'd like to think you could depend on me, too." Light blue eyes stared at him as Blair tried to take in the full impact behind the words from the man he cared for so much. 

"Jim, I do depend on you." Hanging his head, he added with a hush, "Sometimes I worry that I depend too much." 

"No way, Chief." Reaching over, Jim placed a tentative palm against Blair's cheek. 

"God, Jim." 

"Yeah?" He gently traced a finger along the bearded edge of the shaky jaw. 

"I'm about to lose it here." Scooting closer, Jim leaned in closer, his breath warm against Blair's skin. 

"Why's that, Chief?" 

"Are you going to kiss me?" 

"Do you want me to?" 

"Hell, yes." 

Smiling, Jim brushed a feather light fire against tender lips. A swarm of tiny buzzes vibrated through Blair's skull as the larger man rubbed his rough cheek against his own. A mouth locked onto his and a hungry tongue moved past parted lips, a rush of steam slicking inside his own satiny cavern. The push against the back of his throat brought a groan swallowed and sucked away by his overpowering sentinel. A hand stroked down the side of his neck and around to the front of his chest. Pulling back, he stared up into Jim's flushed face just as the older man moved away. He snatched the hand back before he could removed it from his left nipple. "Stay put, Jim." 

"I'm not going anywhere, Blair. I just think this is really bad timing on my part. We need to talk." 

Still holding Jim's hand over his heart, Blair took a deep breath to try to clear his foggy brain. Finally, he managed to nod. "I know. But, during all the talk about dying friends and would-be relatives, could we throw in what this thing between us is all about?" 

"Sure, Chief. We'll talk about anything you want." 

"Good, because as good as this feels, I'm confused as hell." 

"I know." 

Blair raised a finger to Jim's lips and asked, "You're not confused by all this?" 

"Not a bit, Chief. I've finally got this whole thing figured out." 

"You going to share?" 

Kissing the fingers already searching his face, Jim nodded. "Most definitely." 

* * *

"So, tell me about Uncle Josh?" Jim sat opposite his partner on the floor while they both took big bites from their slices of pepperoni pizza. 

"Well, I told you this morning about how he used to tell me stories." Blair nibbled at the tip, his tongue chasing a wayward string of cheese. 

"Yeah, but what else? You haven't seen the man since you were 13 right?" 

"Right." 

"So, why the connection now?" 

Blair chewed a few more times before wiping his mouth, the strong flavors of onion and green peppers fired with spice burning his throat. "Well, I'm not sure. I wish I had some idea about what he wanted to tell me." He studied the edge of the table for a few more moments before he looked up at the blue eyes that studied him with so much concern. 

"What is it you're not telling me here, Chief?" 

"I told you how we stayed with Rufus and his family along time ago, right?" 

"Right." 

"You know nowadays it's not as big a deal for a white person to date someone out of her race, but back then it was, especially down in Atlanta. I mean, things might have changed, but it wasn't exactly easy then." 

"So, you're saying Naomi and Rufus had problems with bigots?" 

"You could say that. Most of the folks just didn't say anything, but there's always some fool running it. Anyway, you kind of get used to name calling." 

"Not really." 

"Yeah, but I told myself I was used to it. The thing was, I could deal with mostly, but there were some members of Rufus's family who didn't like the fact that Naomi and I were not only white in their eyes, but Jewish on top of that. Kind of like a double slap or something." 

Jim finished off the last of his slice and rubbed his hands on a napkin. "So, let me get the picture. You had names coming from all sides on this thing, right?" 

"Yeah, but luckily Uncle Josh was like head of the family and he made sure that nobody said anything around me. I guess he figured my mom could take care of herself." 

"Smart man." Jim smiled at the memory of the headstrong woman who he'd met just a few times. 

"He was that, in a lot of ways. He gave me all kinds of encouragement and support through a time when I really needed it because it wasn't all just about Naomi." 

Tilting his head, unsure of the meaning, Jim asked, "What was it about?" 

"I was thirteen, Jim. What usually happens around that time?" 

"I don't know, football leagues, basketball games, going out for soccer?" 

"The big P, puberty." 

"Oh, yeah, that. So, you started thinking about sex more than you did when you were twelve?" 

Blair grinned at the joke. "No, actually it was pretty much the same. I thought about sex a lot from the time I was about ten to be honest. The thing was I was never really sure what to do about it." 

"Seems like you figured it out okay. Was that because of Uncle Josh?" 

Blair scooted back away from the coffee table and leaned against the couch. His knees raised, he rested wrapped his arms around his chest. "In a way." 

Noting the sudden withdrawal, Jim moved to sit closer. "What happened?" 

"There was this guy name Lamont. He was about my age and we hung out together. We had the same interests and had a good time." His voice tightened at the memory, his throat choking on resistant words. "I mean, I really liked him, Jim and I thought he liked me." 

"But?" 

"He made a pass at me and kissed him." Clearing his throat, he tried harder to say what he needed to share. "Just as we were about to go further, his brothers Luther and Andre caught us." He shivered hard at the memories flooding through his mind, the pain of slaps and kicks that didn't phase the hateful words he remembered. "They hurt us both, but they really hated me after that. Told everybody about what happened." 

"Jesus, Blair, I'm sorry." Jim put his arm around Blair's shoulders and pulled him closer. Letting his head rest on his chest, the young man found the steady rhythm soothing. 

"They said awful things, Jim. I can't even repeat them without wanting to get sick." 

"I'll bet." 

"I was totally humiliated, especially after Lamont told everybody I'd made him do things we didn't even do. God, it was awful." Jim's hold got stronger while he forced himself to finish. "If it hadn't been for Uncle Josh, I don't know what I would've done." 

"What are you talking about, Chief? What did he do?" 

"He protected me when no one else could. He was the only one except my mom who didn't judge me for what happened." 

"Seems like a pretty cool guy." 

"Yeah, he was. About a week after the beating, Mom and I had to leave. I remember it so clearly, Jim. He took me aside and patted my head. He said, 'Son, you've got a good heart. Don't let nobody tell you different. Follow it and you'll do all right.' I'll never forget that." 

Jim rocked the man in his arms gently for a moment before he spoke. "Blair?" 

"What?" 

"Have you been wondering about us more than usual the last few weeks?" 

Blair sat to face his partner. "Yeah, a little. Ever since Roy died I've been thinking about how sometimes we don't get a chance to love somebody until it's too late." 

Reaching a hand up, Jim stroked the side of Blair's head, the dark curls falling through his fingers. "You were in love with Roy?" 

"At one time I thought I might be. You have to understand, Jim. He was such a great guy. I mean, he had a lot of problems, but he was honest and good. The thing was he wanted a commitment and I just couldn't do that. I was only sixteen the first time we got together. I tried to explain how I couldn't see myself with any one person forever like he wanted, but he got mad. Luckily he got over it and we stayed friends, but it was never the same after that. I always wondered what would've happened if I'd stayed with him." 

"Do you regret it?" 

"No, not really. I needed the freedom at the time. But now it's different. Now, there's you and I've been fighting it, but I can't seem to get over how it feels so right with you, so the way it's supposed to feel, you know?" 

"Yeah, I do, Chief." Jim cupped the back of Blair's head to pull him closer. Blair tasted the rich sauce mixed with Jim and fire raced a quick burn between his legs. His groin grew heavy as his cock and balls took on a serious life. Jim's tongue wrestled with his own and pushed across the rough edge of teeth. Nibbling on the edge of the older man's lower lip he moaned louder as a busy knee nudged his legs further apart. His body wedged between couch edge and Jim, he found himself barely breathing while he arched up against the muscular thigh stroking against his crotch. 

Forcing himself to pull back a bit, Blair used both hands to push Jim away. "Wait for a second, Jim. I just have to think." 

"About what? About whether this thing between us is right? I think it is, and I think we've both been miserable fighting it." 

"Well, I know I have, but it's just so sudden." 

Still maintaining contact, Jim relaxed a little and smiled. "Not that sudden. Didn't you pick up on the little courtship ritual with the pancakes." 

A light flashed in Blair's head. "And the Italian restaurant? Gee, Jim, do you think I'm easy for food or what?" 

Chuckling deep in his chest, Jim moved closer, once again embracing his partner. "I use what works for me, Chief. I love it when you cook for me and feed me. Thought I should return the favor and in the process do the ritual deal." 

Leaning so close to Jim, Blair couldn't fail to notice the obvious bulge introducing itself to his leg. Shifting a hand down, he stroked the erect cock through the thin fabric and thrilled to the hitch in Jim's voice. "Jesus, Chief, that feels good." 

"Feels great from here, too." Carefully, Blair unzipped and released Jim from the confines of cloth, pulling his pants down and pushing them out of the way. "Looks good, too." Leaning forward, he whispered, "May I?" 

"God, Blair, please don't tease me." His head thrown back and his eyes squeezed shut gave his sentinel a classic look of sexual starvation on the edge of surrender. 

"I'll take that as a yes." With one hand he held the firm cock and with the other he rolled the balls gently, the scrotum already tight. Licking along the underside, he suckled and nipped up and down the length, Jim's grinding and groaning urging him on. Strong musk mixed with pubic sweat traced his lips as he gently nestled his head between now raised legs. His beard scraped the tender thigh skin, as he cupped and kneaded the globes of Jim's cheeks. Lapping quietly at the precum, the tang washed over his tongue, making his own cock twitch, greedy for attention. Using one hand to pump himself, he used the other to hold Jim's erection as he engulfed it. Taking in as much as he could he formed an "O", bobbing his head in rhythm with his fist. Muscles tightened in his stomach, ground zero at his navel. Electric current fried through his groin, searing lightning through his thighs. Paralyzed with thunder pounding behind the flashing light in his brain, he could do nothing as Jim held his head down. A bitter thick cream choked him as he tried to pull back enough to breathe, only to find his own spasms holding him prisoner, ass cheeks squeezed so tight with agony supreme. Roaring filled his head with wind and rumble and the world swirled to a more narrow light. 

He couldn't breathe. Falling forward into darkness, strong arms grabbed him up. Gagging, he swallowed and spit, trying to clear his airway. "Jesus, Blair. I'm so sorry. Damn." 

Sight returned with steady deep breaths and worried arms around him. Coughing a few more times, he smiled and stared up into panicked blue eyes. "Hey, Jim." 

"Damn it, Chief, you scared me." 

"Really?" 

"You almost choked to death." Jim petted the dark curls, stroking and caressing the back of his neck. 

Licking his lips, Blair relished the salty warm aftertaste of the man he loved. "I guess next time we'll need to tie those hands back, huh?" 

Laughing at the wicked grin, Jim leaned over, kissing the still slick lips of his lover. Then he whispered. "God, I love you, Chief." 

"Me, too, Jim." Shifting to lie between Jim's legs, Blair snuggled into a tight embrace wrapping his arms around the larger man's waist. "You know what?" 

"What?" 

"I think I know why I dreamed about Uncle Josh." 

Puzzled, Jim rested his cheek on Blair's nest of curls. "Why, babe?" 

"I was afraid to tell you how I felt, afraid I'd lose you. I thought of Uncle Josh because he always told me to follow my heart. In my mind I think I wanted someone to remind me of that." 

Kissing the top of his guide's head, Jim whispered. "You're a smart kid, Sandburg. I think maybe I'll keep you around." 

Running his hand over the spent cock so near his fingers, Blair laughed when it twitched. "You think?" 

"God, you're going to kill me before we're done, aren't you?" 

"No way, man. What good is a dead sentinel? No good at all in my humble opinion." 

Lifting his head up, Blair stared directly into Jim's blue eyes while he spoke in a hushed, more serious tone. "You're good for me, Jim. I know that. Make me believe we can do this." 

"Believe it, Chief." 

Laughing under his breath, Blair ran a slow hand across Jim's chest, each nipple still hard under the flannel. "My sentinel has spoken, huh?" 

"You bet, babe. You bet." 

* * *

The End

 


End file.
